


If I Run

by celestial_light



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Post-Rescue from Thangorodrim, essentially people expect maedhros to be the same, he isn't..., ignorance of trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 09:23:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15660339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestial_light/pseuds/celestial_light
Summary: In the midst of his recovery, Maedhros leaves. Fingon doesn’t try to stop him.





	If I Run

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the Tolkien Writers Discord prompt. I've always wondered how the elves handled mental trauma, and wondered if the sames sentiments ever extended to Maedhros. Obvs it does in this fic, so he takes matters into his own hands.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question Fingon asked, it was more of an observation. The civilian clothing and leather satchel was indicator enough, but the lack of a weapon, now that was absolutely telling.

Maedhros doesn’t deny his statement, only tightens his grip on the leather satchel slung over his shoulder, and averts his gaze, towards the rocky terrain and dark, night sky that peeks out of the open door.

His silence gives Fingon the answer he needs.

“Why?” Asks the younger elf, his agonized voice rising as he takes a step towards the redhead.

Maedhros turns quickly, and though he draws no weapon and appears relatively harmless, Fingon flinches,  hand hovering just above the hilt of his sword.

The light of the moon catches the deep scars that mar his pale, gaunt face, illuminates the clipped ears and vibrant eyes.

Fingon gazes with fear, and then shame. Deep shame.

“That’s why.”  

Its then the elf realizes, in horror, the defensive posture he’s assumed. An apology hangs on the tip of his tongue, but he lets it dissolve into the silence. It appears as though all the promises Fingon made to his cousin crumble as his hand falls limply to his side.

Maedhros releases a breath he hadn’t even been aware he was holding, eyes darting cautiously between Fingon and his sword.

“Where will you go?” Fingon chances, knowing there is no actual reason for Maedhros to tell him. Not now, at least.

“Far away.” And he leaves it at that.

“What should I tell your brothers?”

“Tell them not to look for me.” Another clipped answer, but Fingon understands. They’ll be looking for Nelyafinwe, not the elf who was tormented by Morgoth.

It seems their failure to recognize that had forced Maedhros’ hand. At least partly. Fingon was no fool, there was terror in his cousin’s ever changing eyes. Terror of what had happened, and terror that it would happen again.

He wasn’t safe here. Not with his family who tried so desperately to accommodate his changes and had ultimately failed, and not with his brothers who’d failed to help him in the first place.

Caught in his thoughts, Fingon doesn’t even realize that his cousin has left.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed it! comment and leave kudos if you did :D critique accepted :)


End file.
